Black Dog
by PiraNinJedi
Summary: While working a case, Dean somehow finds his life completely turned upside down. Apparently, some goddess thought it would be funny to turn him into a dog! Now he has to do a favor for some jackass and be a pet to his moody little brother if he wants to be human again. eventual Dean/Cas
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey, it's been awhile hasn't it? Well, I was going through my old files and found this story just hanging out and begging to be posted. It's far from finished but I hope to finish it. Let me know what ya'll think!

#

Cases had dried up lately. Ever since Yellow-Eyes bit the bullet a few weeks ago, demons had nearly vanished, along with most other supernatural creatures. The fact that Ellen had even found a case, well, that was good news because Dean wasn't quite ready for the white-picket fence life just yet. A life spent hunting left him almost clueless as to starting over. Hell, all he really knew was hunting and hustling. And that wasn't really something he could put on a resume.

Sam still had a few months before fall classes started and Dean couldn't blame the kid for going back. But he couldn't just yet. No, he wasn't quite ready to try normal. Sammy threw a bitch fit once Dean agreed to take the case. Said there was no point. Yellow-Eyes was dead and gone. Their revenge had been had.

"There's a something supernatural out there, Sammy. It's killing innocent people. Now tell me there's no point," Dean argued, not budging on his decision. He sent a look to his kid brother, just daring him to argue, green eyes hard in his determination.

Sam pressed his lips together, biting back his words. His brother was right, though he was reluctant to admit it. He sighed, "Alright." He'd do this one last case with his brother, but then he was done. He still yearned for a normal life, now more than ever since the threat of the demon that killed their mom and Jess was gone.

With that settled, they left the Roadhouse with the case file that Ellen had given them. It was nearly a thousand miles away, somewhere in Idaho, and would take them two days just to get there.

Sam sat in the passenger seat, going over the notes that Ellen had compiled. They were actually very thorough, considering the woman had never gone on a hunt. But she was the wife of a hunter, so he supposed he shouldn't be too surprised. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Dean change out cassettes, turning the music up when AC/DC began playing.

It was another hour before Sam gave up, after cross-checking dad's journal. His eyes were starting to burn and the sun was setting, making reading even more difficult.

"Figure it out, genius?" Dean asked and Sam groaned.

"One victim was a married man with two kids. He hung himself in the attic. Papers claim he had no history of depression," Sam said before flipping to another article. "The other was a woman, a dentist. She took a gun to her head that same night, and again, no history of depression."

"Any connection?"

"As a matter of fact, yeah. She was the first victim's dentist."

Dean took a quick glance at the article, at the picture of the dentist. She was blonde, had a great pair of tits and Dean whistled. He sent a knowing look to his brother before turning his gaze to the road, "Bet ten bucks they did the nasty."

Sam glared, "The guy had a wife and kids."

Dean smirked, "Just sayin', Sammy. Woman like that…" A grin crossed his lips.

Sam noticed his brother getting a distant look in his eyes, lopsided grin gracing his features. He hummed and nodded his head before stepping on the gas, passing a slow-moving car on the highway. Sam scoffed, shaking his head.

#

Turned out Dean was right, they discovered two days later. Still hadn't figured out what killed the pair, but it struck again the moment they arrived in the small town. A young woman overdosed on pain killers, while a businessman jumped from the building he worked at.

"So, something is killing people that have affairs," Dean summed as he shrugged off his black suit jacket. They'd just finished investigating the woman's apartment, which had turned up nothing.

"Something," Sam agreed as he slumped into the uncomfortable hotel chair, flipping on his computer to check the local papers. He stared at the screen, reading through anything that might give them a better lead. An hour later, he leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes. "Nothing but a bunch of marriage announcements."

Dean sent his brother a look, "Well, it's June. Kinda a popular month, isn't it?"

Sam blinked, the words ringing in his ears. He sat up quickly, closing out of the page and opening a search engine. The older hunter watched curiously, "Dude, mind tellin' me what's goin' on in that giant head of yours?"

He received a glare and after a long moment, Sam cheered, "I think I figured it out. Check this out," he said and tilted the screen while Dean approached, leaning over his brother's shoulder to look at the computer screen. "Juno is the Roman goddess of marriage and women. It is said the month of June, the month of weddings, has been named after her."

"So you think this Juno chick could be behind the suicides?" Dean questioned as he stood back.

"It's the only lead we've got," Sam commented as he shut down the computer with a wide yawn. "I'll do more research in the morning."

"Go get your beauty sleep," Dean smirked as he grabbed his car keys. Sam gave him a bitchface, but Dean ignored it, "Goin' for a ride."

One of his favorite things to do was driving. He loved the Impala, it was the one constant in his life, never letting him down. Just listening to the low rumble of her engine and Dean relaxed. He put in a cassette, some Zeppelin, before turning out of the parking lot.

He thought about going to a bar. Could really use a drink, or several. It'd been just a few weeks since Dad died and Dean was still reeling over what had happened. He'd had nightmares since it happened, couldn't get the images out of his head. He was dead tired, wanted to catch a few solid hours of sleep, but at the same time, he was reluctant to return to the hotel.

In the end, he returned when he was no longer able to keep his eyes open. He collapsed on the bed, asleep in minutes.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I figured I'd go ahead and post the next chapter, since I'm not sure when I'll get to post again. It'll probably be a few days. Anyway, read on my friends!

#

" _They don't need you. Not like you need them," the demon said with a smirk, its voice dark and sinister, twisted so much from his father's voice. Made Dean sick to his stomach. It all seemed hopeless as Yellow-Eyes continued talking, moving so that he was practically spewing in the hunter's face. Dean was pinned by a supernatural force, Sam in the same situation. And the demon was more than ready to kill them. Those yellow eyes pierced through Dean, haunting._

 _Then the pain came. His insides twisted as though they were shoved through a meat grinder and he gasped in pain, eyes clenched to keep the world from spinning. Someone screamed, it might have been him. He could feel something warm pouring down his chest. Blood was pounding in his ears so loud he could barely hear._

 _Those yellow eyes watched in amused interest. But his dad was in there, like the demon said. "Dad, please," Dean coughed, blood filling his mouth. If he could just get through to his dad, then maybe, maybe they could make it out of there alive. It was all he could do._

 _But the pain intensified and he felt dizzy and lightheaded. Black clouded his vision just as yellow eyes turned to warm brown. "Stop," his dad whispered._

 _And the pain stopped. Dean slumped against the wall, while Sam rushed forward with the Colt. The next several seconds happened almost in slow motion. Dad yelled at Sam to shoot, but he couldn't. His hold on the demon was waning. So the elder hunter took the gun and turned it on himself. The last thing Dean remembered from that night was the blood spilling down the wall, unnaturally bright and gleaming in the darkened room._

He woke up and the world was somehow different. Smells, millions of different scents, assaulted his nose. There was a roaring that seemed to overpower any other sound, echoing loudly in his ears. Opening his eyes, he spotted metal bars just a few inches from his face. He was lying on his stomach on a cool surface and there were dogs barking all around him. The ground lurched suddenly, sending him flying into the side of the cage he was in.

But what shook him the most was that everything was in black and white.

He blinked and tried to clear his vision, but it didn't change. Panicking, he tried to stand and realized he was using two extra appendages to do so. Looking down at his hands revealed a pair of furry paws. Shocked, he tried to call out, but it only came out was a low bark.

Son of a bitch.

To make matters worse, he realized exactly where he was headed: a pound. All the dogs in cages; in some kind of vehicle, likely a van. Dean couldn't think of another explanation.

The pound was the absolute last place he needed to be so he began working frantically at the lock on the cage. Without opposable thumbs, picking locks was a million times harder, and all this one needed was for the two bars, one on top and one on bottom of the black box, to be pressed in. Then the door would swing open easy.

He used his nose—snout?—to push the bottom one up while his paw pushed the top one down. Sounded easy, but maneuvering the new appendage took quite a bit getting used to. The van rolled to a stop just as he managed to open the cage.

Dean jumped out of the cage and the moment he landed, the doors to the back of the vehicle opened. It was now or never, so he hurtled past the surprised man, clumsily making his way down across the parking lot. Halfway across, he got the hang of the motion, leaving the man chasing him in the dust.

To be honest, if he could run this fast as a human, it'd make hunts helluva lot easier. But he couldn't do much else besides run. And maybe bite someone. His tongue lolled around inside his mouth, feeling the foreign teeth and rubbing against sharp canines. Sure felt like he had some wicked teeth.

He slowed to an easy trot down the sidewalk, trying to figure out what he was going to do. Dean had no idea where he was and couldn't talk so trying to find someone to help him was out of the question.

Not only that, but his stomach gurgled.

He'd have to find something to eat soon. But first things first. How'd he turn into a friggin' dog? And where was Sammy?

Searching his memory, which was surprisingly sketchy, he recalled finding the goddess. She claimed she was only targeting people that were cheating on their spouses, spouting that they got what they deserved. Dean hadn't believed it, thought it was a loud of bull.

There was a scuffle, maybe. Couldn't remember exactly. But he did remember getting conked on the head.

And he woke up a dog.

He wondered what kind of dog he was. If he was some damn fluffy dog, he'd go batshit crazy. But looking down at his paws, they looked pretty damn big. At least from his perspective. And the fur was fairly short. So he wasn't fluffy at least.

He panted as he stopped on the side of the street. There were some windows of a shop across the street and he could vaguely make out his reflection. Glancing across the street, noting that there were no cars in sight—wouldn't it be his luck, to get hit by a car in this form?—he trotted across to get a better look.

His fur was a darker shade of gray and short, and he seemed like a fairly good sized dog. Had a long tail, not a stub, and stood on long, stocky legs. Floppy ears and a longish snout, with large eyes.

Well, at least he wasn't a Shit-zoo, or whatever those damn little dogs were. Things were creepy as fuck.

"Hoo, boy. What a doozy," a loud and vaguely irritating voice sounded from his right and a too-sweet scent pierced his nose. Almost like walking into a candy shop. Dean whipped his head around, surprised to find the man looking right at him. Before he knew it, he was frozen in place, unable to move his limbs. Dean growled at the man, pleased to hear that the sound was damn intimidating if he did say so himself.

Guy had to be something supernatural. Maybe a witch. But if it was a dude, did that make him a wizard?

When the man started walking away, Dean felt his body begin moving on its own, following the man. He growled, lips pulled back and baring his teeth. He hated witches, more than any other supernatural creature. Because they were humans that willingly went dark side. At least vampires or werewolves had a reason for what they did, everything was instinctual.

The man leaned close, but not close enough that Dean could bite him, he noted with a scowl, and said in a haughty tone, "Trust me, buddy. You'll wanna come with me. See that guy over there?" He pointed to a man that looked vaguely familiar. But he caught of whiff of dozens of other animal scents, along with something that shook him the wrong way, and he remembered. He had nearly ploughed into the man when Dean had escaped the van. "I could let him take you. You know what they do to dogs at the pound, right?"

Dean stopped growling. Oh, he knew. Suddenly Bob Barker's voice was ringing in his head, "Help control the pet population. Have your pet spayed or neutered." His body shook at the thought. No way was he getting fixed. No way in _hell_!

The man with the floppy hair smiled and a leash and collar appeared out of nowhere. Could witches-wizards do that? He hooked the collar around Dean's neck and latched the leash, tugging him along. This time, he stood and followed on his own, although reluctantly. He didn't want the guy to think he'd won. Because he hadn't.

No, Dean would figure something out. He always did.

"So, let me guess. You tangled with a witch and she cursed you, am I right?" Guy was pretty smart, except it had been a goddess. Dean huffed and the man continued talking, oddly cheerful. "That's what I thought. Too bad. Look on the bright side, at least she didn't turn you into a Shih-Tzu."

Dean laughed, because that had been his thoughts exactly! Though the laugh came out as a strange-sounding bark and the man grinned. "You're a hunter, I take it." Another bark. "Well, I might just be able to help you out." The man grinned as he pulled out a candy bar from his shirt pocket. He peeled the wrapper off and took a bite of chocolate. He moaned in apparent delight. "Too bad you can't have any. Chocolate's bad for dogs," he smirked as he polished off the bar.

Dean barked twice that time, hoping that his message was conveyed: "Get to the point!" There was something strange about the guy, something supernatural. Because when he snapped his fingers, the candy wrapper was gone, this time replaced with a package of skittles. He was pretty sure that witches couldn't do that. At least, he didn't think so. But a god might be able to.

His stomach plummeted at this realization. It was rare to come across a god or goddess, the creatures highly secretive. But to run into two in a matter of days? He didn't notice he was growling softly until the man stopped him.

"Oh, hush you. Anyway, you see, I can fix you. Make you good as new. But I need a favor first." A growl was his response and the man frowned. "Hey, I could take you to the pound right now."

Damn, this guy was an asshole! Dean stopped growling, but didn't stop glaring at the man. "Atta boy! Anyway, this favor. You see, I've got a kid brother. Poor guy has the worst luck and I can't be there for him all the time, what with work and all. I'll turn you back into a human in, say, a month, if you watch over my brother. Make sure he's okay, capiche?"

And who the hell says capiche? But Dean found himself barking in agreement. After all, it was just a kid, and he was good with kids. He could watch over the guy's brother, then in a month he'd be back to normal and could find Sammy.

God, Sammy had to be so worried about him. He hoped the giant was in a better situation than he was.

The man grinned, light eyes almost shining in happiness as he tugged Dean along by the leash. He didn't trust the strange guy, not at all. But at this point, what choice did the hunter have? It was either this or the pound.

Following reluctantly behind the weirdo, Dean tried to figure out where he was. Even knowing what state he was in would be nice. Because this definitely didn't look like the small town in Idaho that he and Sammy had scoped out.

The streets faded away into some kind of park and they took to the trails. There were so many different scents to take in, he'd never realized how rough animals had it. There was the woodsy scent of nature, the fresh air, something that suspiciously smelled like a rodent…

He spotted a squirrel just a few feet away and had to fight the sudden urge he had to chase it. He was a human, dammit! Not a dog! He was in control.

He kept his gaze forward and tried to block out all the interesting smells. But there was a scent that caught his attention, much stronger than the rodent scent and much nicer. He could barely describe it, searching his memory for something that smelled similar. It was warm and comforting, but beyond that, he was at a loss.

"Heya, Cassy," the shaggy haired man said as he stopped in front of a park bench, gaining Dean's attention.

He'd found the source of the enticing smell. It was a dark-haired man sitting on a park bench, elbows on his knees and chin resting on folded hands. He looked as though he'd just finish a run, wearing a dark t-shirt and lighter shorts that reached his knees. Though he was breathing steadily, he could see a bead of sweat trickling down the man's temple.

When they approached, the man turned his gaze towards them and Dean could see the recognition in his eyes as he sat straighter. His eyes slid to Dean, then back to the man with confusion, brows furrowed.

"What are you doing, Gabriel?" Even though there was accusation in the man's voice, he had a good, strong voice. It was deep and rumbling and he found it comforting, unlike the light-haired man Dean now knew was Gabriel.

Gabriel raised his brows, holding his hands up in defense. "What? A guy can't walk his dog?"

The man sitting on the bench—Cassy?—sighed and ignored the statement, "Why did you wish to meet here?"

Gabriel took the seat next to Cassy—girly ass name for a guy, Dean thought as he laid down. Might as well get comfortable until this Gabriel guy took him to his brother. Had no idea what he was doing, but figured he really didn't care. Just wanted to get this situation over and done with so he could find Sammy.

He found his mind drifting as he watched a few college-aged guys played Frisbee in an open field. A father and son played catch with a football. A few teenage girls drove by on bicycles, giggling as they watched the college guys showing off.

It was a nice day, warm but not overly hot. Completely opposite weather than it'd been in Idaho. It'd been cool and wet and Dean hated it. He huffed out a sigh, wishing he was human. Day like this, he'd pop open his favorite beer or maybe just take a drive in the Impala with the windows down, AC/DC blaring. Sammy would make a bitch face at him, but he'd turn it up louder, singing along and maybe do some air guitar.

He felt a strange tickling sensation in his head, like the beginnings of a headache but it faded quickly.

"No," the sudden outburst had Dean looking up at Cassy. The guy looked pissed, shoulders tensed and lips set in a firm line as he stared Gabriel down. Couldn't blame the guy for being pissed at the man. Dean couldn't stand him either.

"Aw, c'mon Cassy. Normal people have pets," Gabriel gave the man a pleading look and Dean's stomach sunk as he realized what they were talking about. _This_ was Gabriel's brother? A full grown man, and he considered him a kid?

He ignored the fact that he still considered Sammy a kid. Just an overgrown one.

"I am not 'normal people,' and quit calling me that," those intense eyes focused on Gabriel, the expression rivaling Sam's own bitchfaces. He briefly wondered what color they were.

Gabriel huffed, crossing his arms. "But Dean needs somewhere to stay," he started and how the hell did he know his name? He briefly remembered that weird, prickling sensation he felt a few moments ago and guessed the guy had somehow read his mind. If he could bite the man, he would. "And you need to fit in, _Castiel_. Do normal things. Like take him for walkies. Clean up his poo, that sort of thing."

The glare that Castiel, not much better than Cassy, gave Gabriel was intensified. A sort of spicy scent pricked his nose, like cinnamon maybe, and Dean realized it was coming from the dark-haired man. They'd been right when they said dogs could sense emotions!

Gabriel grinned cheerfully and waved, said "See ya!" and took off.

There was a long silence that followed, in which the whoops and cheers of the college drifted to them. Castiel sighed after a moment, turning that intense gaze to Dean. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the guy looked flabbergasted. Wide eyed and maybe a little helpless, he stared at Dean.

He almost felt sorry for the guy.


End file.
